Prisoner
by Akheilos and Delphin Inc
Summary: "Okay, Jay, listen. Can you see me?" You shake your head, your heart beating faster. "This is not good," he mutters. "What isn't?" you ask. But you already know the answer. "I'm blind."
1. Chapter 1

**This is a oneshot on… well… I kinda explained it in the summary, didn't I?**** Okay, I'm not entirely sure if this'll only be a oneshot, it may become a full story, depending on whether or not I complete Aaron Pax: Rebellion (you should read that :)**

Darkness. That is all you can remember; is all you have ever known. There are some fuzzy memories in your mind, of bright places, filled with light and joy. But that's no more. You don't know whether it's day or night, whether it's summer or winter, whether it's cold or warm. You only know a cycle of feelings, dread of the footsteps coming to take you, fear of the footsteps when they actually come and of the cold voices filled with millions of little razors, pain when they are torturing you, suffering when they sew you up, relief when you stumble back into your cell, and then the oncoming dread again.

* * *

You're dreading the footsteps. You're dreading even the smallest scurrying of a mouse's feet. Your heart thumps faster as your mind thinks that you hear footsteps coming. You wait and wait, but finally you realize that there is nothing to be heard. You look down at your watch, but then you remember that the glow-in-the-dark features died long ago. You hold it to your ear, but it's not ticking any more.

You hold your watch up in front of you, hoping to catch your own reflection, to see if you're still there, to see if there is any light in this prison. But you see nothing. Not even the one feature you have ever liked about yourself: your eyes. _Blue as the feathers of a blue jay,_ you have always been told. You smile inwardly. Blue jay. You were named after your eye color. But who will remember you, Bluejay Tobias Stevens? Who? They won't remember Bluejay. They'll remember Jay, the boy who was captured by the titans. But Bluejay? Nah. What a stupid name, you think, biting back the tears you know won't come anymore.

* * *

You're scared. The fear is sinking in as the steps come closer, ever closer. You count them. Every day they are different. Every day a new person to torture you. You clutch your arms, clawing at the thin shirt you have on. You want to die rather than be here. Your eyes widen for the millionth time, trying to find light in the darkness.

The door squeaks open and gruff hands take you by the shoulders, roughly pushing you along the pitch black hallway. Didn't torches use to stand here, you ask yourself. Possible. You don't remember. Any emotion you've had till now is gone. Fear has replaced it. Fear for yourself. Not for anyone else. Fear.

* * *

You scream in pain. You are being enclosed, like time has stopped around you and you can't breath. Your lungs feel like they're on fire, but you know you won't die. You scream again, but the voice just laughs. You know that voice! You know it, so why can't you think of it? Your mind is racing, trying to save you. Your lungs feel like they're about to explode. Why can't you just die? By now it is a serious question.

Colors flash before your eyes in the dark room. Red, orange, blue, green, yellow. But they seem so unnatural now. You haven't seen them in such a long time- months? Years? Who are you again? Who are you? Who? You scream again, and someone releases you with a sword, the cold blade biting into your cheek. The horribly familiar voice cackles again, telling your captor to take you to be sewn up.

* * *

It hurts, it hurts so much. You don't know how you can possibly still be alive. You really don't know. Once again you're in a black room, and you feel a hot liquid on your face. You scream and you bite the fingers that are treating you, but your teeth grasp thin air as the person pulls away, tusk-tusking. They order for you to be taken back to your cell. How you regret that bite now.

You feel the sweat run down your face as you feel your fever coming back, only now, there won't be any medicine to pull you out of reality. They shove you back down the black corridor and into your blacker cell. You just want this over. Next door you hear the screams of the next prisoner. But you can only think about yourself.

* * *

Relief floods you as you stumble and fall into your cell. Relief from the pain, from the darkness around you. Your eyes wide open, you look for a small sign of life or light. You strain you ears for voices outside. For a moment, your training comes back to mind and you lean your head against the cold stone wall, but the memory leaves as quickly as it comes. Pain floods your head and relief is pushed to the side.

Again, you strain your ears for the sound of footsteps, and paranoia kicks in again. The dread is back.

* * *

You're scared again. The footsteps are faster this time, more hurried. There are shouts and bangs and booms, things your ears haven't heard for a long time. You hear the door to your cell being pushed open with an unusual force and many footsteps running. You hear the familiar clinking of swords and armour. You rise to defend yourself, but you are too weak. You stumble and face plant, but hands catch you. Are they preparing you to die, you wonder.

The hands don't drag you this time. They come around your shoulders, stabilizing you, supporting you. It feels so good. Warmth floods through you, not the familiar warmth from your fever, but warmth from a fire, from the sun. You stumble out, supported by the strong hands, into the corridor. They take you along, sometimes carrying you up stairs, down stairs, ducking into a crevice in the wall. Finally, you are outside.

It feels so good to be outside again. You feel the wind whipping in your face, tousling the hair that has grown long- past your ears already. You used to have a buzz cut. But something is wrong. You can hear everything so much sharper than you remember. But why is it still black? Why can't you see anything? You open your eyes wide, straining to see just the smallest speck of light.

"Hey, hey! Hey, can you hear me?" A voice asks. Masculine, friendly sounding. I gulp, nod and shiver, wrapping my arms around me, my eyes still so wide I'm scared they will pop out of my head. A blanket is thrown over me and a grope for the edges, pulling it tightly around me. "My name is Jason Grace. What's yours?"

"Bluejay Tobias Stevens," you reply. It is your standard reply, as your memory tells you, the reply you give everyone. "But everyone calls me Jay."

"Okay, Jay, listen. Can you see me?" There is concern in Jason's voice. You guess him to be blonde. Caucasian, mid-teens. How old are you again? You shake your head, your heart beating faster. You hear Jason sigh slightly, a sad sigh. You have heard it often enough. Always when your torturer was disappointed that you didn't scream enough. But Jason doesn't seem like the kind of person. He sounds nice, friendly. "This is not good, he mutters."

"What isn't?" you ask. But you already know the answer. You answer to yourself, in that hoarse papery voice you just spoke with. "I'm blind."

You're sure that if you could see Jason, he'd be nodding.

**I don't know what to call this. Angst? Maybe. I might add another chapter. I might not. Anyway, Jay is a son of Janus, an important Roman god, in case I don't add another chapter. Later, he can see shadows as a gift from his patron.**


	2. Chapter 2

**I know I said this would be a one-shot, but I've changed me mind. ****Whenever I find new inspiration for this story, I will add another chapter. This way I am not obligated to post a new chapter every week or so. Also, review, yes? Thank you :)**

**I DO NOT OWN PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIANS NOR DO I OWN HEROES OF OLYMPUS- RICK RIORDAN DOES.**

"Ave, pup," a gravely female voice spits. "What's wrong with him, Praetor?" I imagine she's turning to look at Jason, who I think is supporting me. But how can I be sure? Ugh, I really hate this.

"He's blind, Lupa," Jason answers. "I suggest we let him stay in the lazaret," Jason states. Lazaret. Sounds like some kind of tent-like thingy. But I concentrate on not collapsing, even with the strong hands supporting me. My right knee feels like it's in fire and I can't put it on the ground without yelling in pain.

"Huh," Lupa grunts. "If you must. But then put him in the unclaimed tent. He must be unimportant if his parent let him go blind-" she stops abruptly. She clears her throat. "Praetor Grace, we have a son of Janus in our hands. Take him to his tent and get me Centurio Daniels from the third legion. And Legionary Dikes! Ave."

"Yes, Lupa. Ave," Jason says. Then the strong hands start leading me away again, over what I think is grass. I really want to know what everything is about here, but my mouth is too heavy. After a few minutes, we stop walking.

"Password?" a voice shouts down from somewhere high.

"Err… glue stick!" Jason shouts back. A snicker and something hard and out of wood lands on the ground in front of me, sending a cool breeze my way. It's refreshing but terrifying at the same time. It reminds me of my prison. We start walking again, over what seems to be wood. The dull _thunk_ sounds our footsteps are making make me think we're walking over a bridge of sorts.

Then we are on earth again. It is compacted and dry, with tufts of grass growing here and there. Or so I think. I trip and almost fall, but I don't. I wish I did. It would make everything feel more real. Jason and the other person are guiding me somewhere, and I don't realize we're inside until Jason tells me to lie down. I obey by sitting down on the floor and lying down, but Jason just laughs. He and the other boy pick me up and I feel my body brush against a bed of sorts. How stupid I must've looked.

"Hey, just get some rest, okay, Jay? Someone'll bring you some ambrosia and nectar. Here," he finishes, and I feel a cover being drawn over me. "Get some rest."

I hate this. I hate being treated like a child because of my… my blindness. I know Jason is trying to be nice, but I don't want his help. "Go," I say. "Leave me." My voice sounds so fragile, as if it might break any moment. I hear Jason sigh, then leave the room, the other boy following him. I turn around to what I hope is opposite from the door.

I wish I knew where I am. I reach out, expecting to feel cold walls, but my hands brush against some sort of canvas. Maybe I'm in and airtight tent. I close my eyes and find I don't notice much. Usually when you close your eyes, you relax and fall asleep, but to me, it just brings back the darkness of my cell. All those hours I spent trying to sleep, all those hours I pressed my eyes shut, wanting it all to be over.

_And now?_ A little voice asks in my head. _You're free. _No. I'll never be free. I'll never be able to suppress the memories my captor has given me. Kronos, isn't it? Yeah, that's what they call him. Or was it Krios? But I've heard different names here. Saturn. But what does it matter? I'm blind. What do I care?

I turn and lie on my back, waiting for sleep to come. Waiting… waiting….

I am in a desert. It's weird because I can see everything; the orange-yellow sand, the red sky, the grey rocks and the green cacti. That's when I notice I must be dreaming. Okay… so how do you escape from a dream? You don't.

"Hello, Jay," a friendly female voice comes from behind me. She sounds young, maybe ten at the most. I spin around, expecting to see her there, but all I can see is a shadow.

"Hello?" I call softly, almost scared. "Who- who are you?"

The girl laughs- a warm friendly laugh. "I am your patron."

"Okay," I say, pulling the 'o' out. "Err… who are you, exactly?"

When the girl answers, she seems sad. "You know who I am, Jay. You came to me long ago, asking for guidance. You helped me do some things, make some decisions. You went on a quest for me. Please remember, Jay."

For a brief moment, I see the girl's eyes. They glow a warm shade of red, and they seem kind, so kind. Her name is at the tip of my tongue, but I can't place it. As quickly as her eyes appeared, they disappear. I bend my head, ashamed, to find that everything has gone black once again.

"I cannot stay for long. You are looking for a home, Jay. Here is a small gift- as a small thanks." I close my eyes as I feel her presence near my face. Her hands rub something on my eyelids, something soft and cool, yet warming at the same time. But when I open my eyes, the same darkness is still there. "Goodbye, my hero."

And then I am falling, just falling. Screams envelop me and pain, so much pain. And then it's over. I sit up, panting, my eyes torn wide open but there is nothing there. Just the emptiness of the weird tent I'm in.

"Hey," a soft voice says from next to me. Female, mid teens. Friendly. "Here, take this," she says, taking my hand and placing it around what feels like a glass. "Drink, you'll feel better." I gingerly lift the glass to my mouth and take a sip. It tastes good, like so many things my taste buds have forgotten. After a few small sips I choke though, spluttering the drink all over myself and the bed. I hear a small laugh as the girl clears the drink up, taking it from my hand.

"You might want to take things slow for a bit. My name's Reyna. What's yours?" She, Reyna, has a mild Spanish accent.

"Reyna," I say, letting the word dance on my tongue. "Means 'queen'." I turn my head towards her voice. Another small laugh comes from her direction, slightly more behind me.

"Yes, it does. If only _he_ knew…" she trails off, her voice barely a whisper at the last words. I wonder who has done something to her to make her this sad.

"My name is… Jay," I say. I don't like the hesitation in my voice. It's too… natural, some how.

"Like the blue jay?" Reyna asks. She sounds pretty. I let a small smile steel across my lips. How those muscles haven't been used in such a long time.

"Exactly like the blue jay. My full name is Bluejay Tobias Stevens," I say. Stupid name, I think again. As of now my name will be Jay Stevens. No 'Blue' and definitely no 'Tobias.'

"Hey, that's weird. There's a girl here, daughter of Favonius. Her name is Celia Stevens and she looks like you." For a moment I am too stunned to speak. Then, choosing my words carefully, I answer.

"Like me?"

"Yeah, like you."

"How's that?"

"You could be related?"

"No. I mean, yes, but no. Reyna, What do I look like?"

**Yuop! Till next time, please Read and Review, I might update more *hint-hint-nudge-nudge-wink-wink-kick-kick-punch-punch***


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